Emma Shorts
by NatteryakToad
Summary: ...Professor Longbottom left the room, shutting the door behind him, and Emma was left alone with Draco Malfoy, the stranger who was also her father... Immediately following on from Regarding Emma, Emma Shorts fills some gaps in Dudley's Daughter Year Three and tells the tale of Draco Malfoy meeting his daughter for the first time.
1. Chapter 1

**(1)**

"Emma."

Emma Payne looked up from her textbook to see Professor Nilsson stood over her, holding a crumpled square of paper which Emma knew to be a MI, the almost instant messaging system used by staff and students alike at Hogwarts.

"Professor Longbottom would like to see you in his office upstairs," Professor Nilsson said.

"N...now?" Emma stammered – it was almost unheard of for someone to get called out in the middle of a lesson. This must be about the trouble she and her friends had got into at the weekend.

"Us too?" Matilda asked, getting to her feet, and pointing to JJ Jordan, the third member of their quartet.

"Sit down, Matilda," Professor Nilsson said firmly. "Off you go, Emma."

Emma got to her feet slowly. She wanted to ask for someone to go with her, but she didn't dare. Why would Professor Longbottom just want to see her, and not the others? Of course, he could've summoned Archie too – Archie MacMillan, the final member of the first year quartet, was a Ravenclaw, and therefore not in Modern History of Magic with the Gryffindors.

Emma was so deep in thought that when she rounded the last corner on the seventh floor corridor where Professor Longbottom's Head of House Office was, she almost walked into Professor Longbottom himself.

"S... sorry," she stammered, but her Head of House was smiling.

"Ahh, Emma," he said. "Don't look so worried, you're not in any trouble."

Emma thought this was a strange thing for him to say, since she and her friends _were_ in a lot of trouble.

"There's someone here to see you," Professor Longbottom continued. "His name's Draco Malfoy, and he's your father."

"M...my... father?" Emma stammered. Since she was little, she'd imagined meeting her father, who'd often resembled a knight or a superhero, who would swoop in and sort Steve out. Once she'd found out she was a witch, she'd started imagining that her dad was a wizard and that he'd come and curse Steven into a million pieces. "Is... is he a wizard?" was all she could think to ask now.

"Yes," Professor Longbottom smiled. "And he's really keen to meet you."

Then, before Emma had any chance to collect her thoughts about her father, or consider whether or not _she_ wanted to meet _him_ , Professor Longbottom pushed open his office door and ushered Emma inside.

At the sight of the man sat by the window, Emma's heart gave a little leap, as if she recognised him, although she was certain she'd never seen him before. Emma knew that, visually, she took after her mum very little, and now she could see that she took after her father instead. He had the same blonde hair she did; the same pointed face and pale grey eyes. He looked at her, and she looked at him, and nobody spoke until Professor Longbottom said,

"I'll leave you to it."

He left the room, shutting the door behind him, and Emma was left alone with Draco Malfoy, the stranger who was also her father.

"Emma, come and sit down," her father said quietly, and it suddenly struck Emma that he was nervous too. He'd seated himself on the sofa in the window instead of at Professor Longbottom's desk, and, tentatively, Emma sat down at the other end of the sofa. "I suppose I ought to explain why I've taken so long to meet you," he said, once she'd sat down.

Emma nodded, wordlessly, still taking it all in. _She was actually meeting her father!_

"I must confess I knew nothing about you until this time last year, when Lo- _Professor_ Longbottom wrote to me," Emma's father said. "And, since then, I've been waiting, watching from a distance, for the right time to meet you."

 _The right time was twelve years ago_ , Emma thought, but she didn't say it- if her dad had only known she existed for a year, she guess he couldn't've been expected to get involved in her life years ago.

"I don't know what you're mum's told you about me-" her father began.

"She had a one night stand with you," Emma told him, and she was unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She's spent years imagining how her life would be different if her parents had been more than a one night stand. Maybe Steve wouldn't be on the scene, or at least Emma would've had a chance to meet her father, and been able to spend some of her childhood with him rather than her mum and Steve. "She said she couldn't remember your name, but she thought maybe it had something to do with a duck."

Her father smiled, betraying the merest hint of a personality beneath the emotionless exterior. "I was very drunk that night," he confessed. "My father had just told me he wanted nothing to do with me, and cut me out of his will – disowned me completely. So I went into a Muggle bar, where I knew no one would recognise me... and got very drunk, and..."

"Made me," Emma supplemented.

Her father nodded. "And I really had no idea – the possibility never even crossed my mind."

Emma didn't know what to say to that. What did he want her to say? – that it was okay that she'd lived for twelve years without a dad because he couldn't be bothered to find out that his causal encounter had resulted in a child, a child who'd spend the next decade knowing she ranked not even half as highly as her step-father's own children. Emma knew that bitterness wasn't the best way to start off her relationship with her father, but it was hard not to be bitter as she imagined what the last twelve years of her life would've been like with him in it.

"I'm sorry, Emma," Draco said. "I'm sorry I haven't been involved in your life up until now, but I want to change that. I want to learn all about you and get involved in your life."

"I want to know about you first," Emma said, sitting back and folding her arms. She'd always found it better to take more than you gave, early on in any relationship – you were less likely to get hurt that way.

For a split second, however, she'd thought she'd blown it. Then her father nodded and said, "Fair enough. What do you want to know?"

Emma considered. "Do you have any other family?" she asked.

"Apart from you and my father?" her dad asked. "Yeah, there's my mother, my wife, and our son, Scorpius, who's a fifth year here."  
"You were married when you slept with my mum?" Emma asked.

"Yes," her father said simply.

"Does your wife know?" Emma asked.

"Yes," her father said. "Astoria knows. I told her at the time, and she's forgiven me. She's looking forward to meeting you."

Emma chose to ignore that last comment. "What house is Scorpius in?"

"Slytherin," her father told her. "The thing is, Emma, I made some bad choices during the War. Sure, I was predisposed toward them, since my whole family supported Voldermort during the last war, but my choices were mind alone."

"What-?" Emma began.

"I was a Death Eater," Draco told her. "I trust you've come across the term in class?" Emma nodded. "I joined up at barely sixteen. I quickly found out that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and I did a lot of things I regret in the following two years until the war ended. I'm not proud of what I did, and I've spent the time since trying to make up for it. I'm not perfect, Emma, but I'm trying."

Despite everything he'd told her, Emma couldn't help but like her father, and not just because he was her father. He had an air about him – the air of someone who'd made peace with himself and his past. He seemed to be reassuringly sturdy, and promised a stability which had been lacking in Emma's life up until now.

"So... I heard you have brothers and sisters," Emma's father said, after a slight pause.

"From who?" Emma asked.

"Professor Longbottom," her father told her. "He's been helping me keep an eye on you this year. So, you want to tell me about them?"

Emma wondered why her father was interesting in Eddie, Ellie and Evie. Steve had long since made it clear that he wasn't interested in her or anything to do with her. Her father hadn't even met her siblings – why should he care?

"Eddie's eight – nearly nine," Emma told her father. "He likes Moshi Monsters and football and Charlie and Lola... and you don't know what any of that is, do you?"

"No," her father smiled. "I have absolutely no idea. But carry on."

"He makes me laugh, even when I feel like crying," she paused, searching for the words to describe her brother. "I think he's my best friend. Ellie's seven. She likes lego and art, and she hates reading, but she reads bedtime stories to Evie because she knows how much she likes it, and I'm not there to read them. And Evie's four, and she likes jumping on the trampoline and playing in the garden and Peppa Pig, and she's just leaning to swim, and she sends me pictures every week, and she can even write her name on them now."

The weight of how much she missed her younger siblings suddenly hit Emma, and despite the underlying worry about the 'stealing things' incident, she couldn't wait to go home in ten days time and see them all.

"Their father – he's married to your mother, right?" Emma's father asked, and Emma nodded. "How old her you when they go married?"

"Three," Emma told him. "Mum was like pregnant out here with Eddie."

"D'you get on okay with him?"

Emma spent a while considering how to answer that. 'No' would be the truth, but she hadn't been very old when she'd learned that the correct answer was always 'Yes, everything's fine.'

"Emma," her father prompted, and Emma sighed.

"He's not my dad – why should we get on?" she said.

"So... you don't get on?" her father asked. Emma shook her head. "Would you want to get on better with him?"

Emma shrugged. "No. I don't give a damn about him."

Emma's father's face turned serious. "Professor Longbottom wrote to me and told me that you seemed very worried when he mentioned writing home to your mum and step-dad, and part of the reason I've come here today is to check whether everything's okay at home."  
"So... you know about the 'stealing things' incident?" Emma asked tentatively, not knowing her father well enough yet to gage how he'd react.

"Yes," her father said simply. "And we can discuss that later, but right now I'm concerned with how things are at home."

"They're not good," "Emma said quietly. "I _hate_ Steve." She felt her hands ball into fists. "He's never seem me as his daughter, and he goes out of his way to remind anyone and everyone that I'm not, and... and he's got a horrible temper, and when he's mad I try and keep Eddie and Ellie and Evie out of his way so he won't hit them, so then he hits me instead, but at least I'm keeping them safe from him... but now I'm at Hogwarts I can't do that... I'm keeping myself safe, but I can't keep them safe."

"It's not your job to keep them safe," Emma's father growled, and Emma glanced up at him nervously. She thought she saw his lips form the angry word 'bastard', but when he spoke again, his voice was relatively calm. "You're just a kid yourself. You shouldn't have to keep anyone safe – other people should keep you safe. None of this is your fault."

"But-" Emma began, but her father cut her off.

"It's not your fault. If your step-dad's got a temper, then that's his problem – there are _no_ circumstances which make it okay for him to take it out on you or your brother or sisters. Perhaps I should pay this Steve a visit and remind him of that..."

"No!" Emma said urgently, desperate to make her father understand how much of a bad idea going to see Steve was. "Please don't!"

"Will things change if I don't?" her father asked.

"No..." "Emma said reluctantly. "But... he won't listen to you – he doesn't listen to anyone."

"Does he listen to your mum?" her father asked.

Emma shook her head. Not that her mum would ever try to stop Steve doing something, or try to change him in any way. As much as Emma loved her mum, she sometimes thought that if she was any more passive, she'd be dead.

"Then let me pay him a visit," Emma's father said. "I can be very persuasive when I need to be, and I'll make it very clear that I won't let him hurt you again."

"Or Eddie, Ellie, or Evie," Emma said quietly, understanding why her father was just focussing on her, but still feeling he was missing the point. She didn't like it when Steve hit her, but it was far better than watching her siblings get hurt.

"Them too," her father nodded. "I promise you I'll fix this, Emma. That's what dads are for."

"Okay..." Emma said tentatively, still not entirely comfortable with her father going to see Steve, but aware that she wasn't going to be able to dissuade him.

Her father removed a watch from the pocket of his robes and checked the time. "I can't say much longer, and I needed to see Scorpius before I go. But, if you like, and if Professor Longbottom agrees, I'd like to take you out for tea for your birthday next week."

"I'd like that," Emma said, smiling shyly. "But... could it maybe not be on my actual birthday? I..."

"Of course – you want to spend your birthday with your friends," her father nodded.

"It's not that I don't want to have tea with you-" Emma said hurriedly, anxious that he understand.

Her father cut her off. "It's okay, Emma," he said reassuringly. "I understand. I'll ask Professor Longbottom which other day would be best."

Emma got to her feet to leave.

"Emma," her father said, reaching out for her hand. Emma let him take it. "I want you to know how sorry I am for not being a part of your life up until now. I'm going to change that. And I also want you to know that, should you ever want it, there will always be a home for you with me."

"I... I couldn't leave Eddie, Ellie and Evie," Emma stammered, quickly dismissing the fleeting leap her heart gave at the thought of never having to see Steve again.

"I know," her father nodded. "But the offer's always there, should you ever change your mind. Now, you'd better get off to dinner. I'll see you next week. And don't worry about Steve – I'm going to fix things."

As Emma walked down to dinner, she couldn't help but think that, despite how unrealistic it sounded, her father really was going to fix things.

* * *

A/N: Okay, here's the plan - one of each of the five Emma Shorts posted each Monday in May, provided I get the last three typed up in time...


	2. Chapter 2

**(2)**

Draco stood at the garden gate, trying to control the hatred that pulsated through him – hatred for a man he'd never even met. It wouldn't do to confront Emma's step-father like this. Draco fought to remain calm, keep a cool head. It was the only way he had a chance of getting through to the man who his daughter was forced to put up with due to her love for her siblings.

After several minutes, Draco pushed open the gate and headed up the path to the front door. He knocked loudly and then waited. A female voice shouted, 'Just a minute,' and Draco waited impatiently. He'd just got himself together – if he had to wait very long, he risked losing his cool.

A minute later, the door was opened to reveal a dark-haired woman who looked to be in her early thirties, and whom Draco didn't recognise. It was possible that he'd got the wrong house, but more likely that he just didn't recognise Emma's mother due to the copious amounts of alcohol he'd consumed on the only occasion he'd met her.

"Tabitha?" he asked.

The woman nodded. "How can I help you?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco told her. "Emma's father."

The expression on Tabitha's face moved quickly from curiosity to shock to fear.

"Now's really not a good time..." she stammered.

"Now's the only time," Draco corrected. "I'm here to see your husband."

"That's... really not a good idea..." Tabitha said. "Please, Draco..."

"Is your husband home?" Draco asked.

"No," Tabitha said. "No, he's not here."

But even as she spoke, a male voice called down the stairs, "who's that at the door, Tabitha?"

Draco stepped past Tabitha into the hall to face Steve as he came down the stairs.

"Can I help you?" Steve asked, in a voice which actually said, 'who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?'

"I'm Draco Malfoy, Emma's father," Draco began, but Steve cut him off.

"Get out! Get out of my house!" he yelled. "I don't want you anywhere near my family."

"And I don't want you anywhere near mine," Draco said, fighting to keep calm. "But, unfortunately, my daughter loves your children, so we'll have to find a compromise. Shall we take this in off the doorstep – I highly doubt you'd like your neighbours to hear some of the things I'm going to say to you."

For a minute, Steve looked like he was going to try to fight Draco, but he seemed to think better of it, and when he spoke his voice was forcibly calm. "The living room. This better not take long."

Draco followed Steve into the living room, with Tabitha following once she'd closed the front door. Steve and Tabitha seated themselves on the sofa, and Draco sat down in an armchair.

"I'm here to ensure that you never hurt my daughter again," Draco said. Steve began to speak, but Draco cut across him. "I know that you've made Emma's life hell for the last decade. I know that you lose your temper and hit her, or her siblings. And I'm here to tell you that it stops now, or so help me I will not be accountable for what I do to you."

"Are you threatening me?" Steve asked.

"Oh, definitely," Draco said nonchalantly. "Let me tell you a little story..."

"I haven't got time for stories!" Steve snapped. "I told you to make this quick."

"I'm making it as long as it needs to be," Draco said calmly, feeling anything but calm. "Now then, when I was a little older than Emma, there was a wizarding war, a war between light and dark, a war fought between those who followed the greatest dark wizard of all time and those who allied themselves with the teenager who'd survived the Dark Lord's attempt on his life when he was just a baby. I was on the wrong side.

"I spent the final year of the war trying to find a way out, and when peace came, I joined in rebuilding. But I learnt a lot of dark magic in my time in the service of the Dark Lord, dark magic which I will not hesitate to use on you if you so much as lay a finger on my daughter again. Have I made myself clear?"

"I don't take kindly to blackmail," Steve said, folding his arms, his jaw set.

"And I don't take kindly to thugs and bullies who hurt and intimidate those who are smaller than them," Draco said, raising his voice. He drew his wand and shot a non-verbal stinging jinx at Steve, who yelped in pain. "That was just a taster," Draco told him, stowing his wand back into the pocket of his robes. "A simple stinging jinx – many kids Emma's age will have learnt how to cast one by now. I know far worse, and I will not hesitate to use them all on you if you ever hurt any of the children in his house again."

"Hang on – you can't tell me how to discipline _my_ children!" Steve said – the stinging jinx had clearly made him angrier rather than subduing him.

"I don't think any reasonable person could call hitting your temper 'discipline'," Draco said. "Emma loves your children, and she's hurt when they're hurt. I understand that you muggles have some kind of social service which would be very interested to hear if some children are being mistreated."  
"You wouldn't dare," Steve growled.

"Oh, I would," Draco returned. "Now, I'd like to talk to Eddie – I presume he's upstairs?"

"You'll talk to him over my dead body!" Steve said angrily.

The mood he was in now, Draco thought that could be arranged, but he knew better than to say it. "I'll talk to him now, or I'll go straight to these social service people."

"Fine!" Steve said defeatedly. "Fine!" He got up, headed out into the hallway and called up the stairs, "Eddie! Downstairs!"

A minute later, a boy shuffled into the living room, recognisable as Steve and Tabitha's son, if not Emma's brother. Eddie looked nervously from his parents to Draco and back again.

"Good afternoon, Eddie," Draco said. "I'm Draco Malfoy, Emma's father."

"You're Emma's dad?" Eddie said incredulously.

"Yes," Draco said simply.

"You haven't... come to take her away, have you?" Eddie asked nervously.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco watched Tabitha. She'd gone from nervous to frightened in the last few minutes, and Draco felt a stab of anger at this spineless woman who let her husband walk all over her and her children. "No, I'm not," he said eventually. "I offered her a home with me, but she said she'd rather stay here with you."

Eddie brightened visibly at this.

"To make it easier for you and your sisters to communicate with Emma whilst she's at school, I've got you a present."

"Eddie, don't accept anything he gives you," Steve said quickly, and Eddie glanced nervous over at his father before turning back to Draco.

Draco reached into the magically expanded pocket of his robes and carefully drew out the caged owl.

"I am _not_ having a owl in the house," Steve said firmly.

"Aw, please, Dad!" Eddie said. "I'd keep it in my room and I promise I'd look after it by myself and keep it quiet."

Draco looked meaningfully at Steve, and casually reached towards the pocket which he knew Steve had seen him return his wand to earlier.

"Alright!" Steve said defeatedly. "But if I hear one peep out of that bird..."

"You won't," Eddie promised.

"I'll put a silencing charm on your bedroom door so no one has to hear any noise she makes," Draco offered, and, before Steve could protest, Draco got up and headed out into the hall. Eddie caught up with him at the foot of the stairs.

"My room's the one straight ahead at the top of the stairs," he said, and Draco let him lead the way. "It's not very tidy..." he said apologetically.

Eddie's room was clearly the boxroom – there was barely room for the bed, wardrobe and chest of drawers. Eddie used his arm to clear assorted toys, drawing and clothes from the top of the chest of drawers.

"She can go here," he said. Draco set the cage down where Eddie indicated, and then reached into his pocket once again and drew out food, and straw, and all the other things Eddie would need to take care of his owl.

"If you run out of food or anything, just write to me and I'll send you some more," Draco told him. "If you just write, 'Draco Malfoy' on the envelope, and she'll know where to find me."

"Thank you," Eddie nodded.

Draco cast the silencing charm on the door, and then headed back downstairs. Steve was stood in the hallway, Tabitha just behind him in the living room doorway.

"Are you finished interfering in my family?" Steve demanded.

"For now," Draco said, smiling wryly. "Doubtless you'll be seeing me again – I'll be delivering Emma home for her summer holidays, for a start – although the frequency of my visits is entirely up to you. Be warned that if you continue to hurt the children in your care, I'll know. Even if you forbid Eddie to write to me, I'll know."

Draco walked the length of the hallway, opened the front door, and – he couldn't quite bring himself to break the unwritten social rule which considered it the height of rudeness to apparate in or out of someone else's house – disapperated from the front step.


	3. Chapter 3

(3)

On the afternoon before her birthday, whilst her classmates headed to Transfiguration for their last class of the day, Emma instead headed down to the Entrance Hall, where her father was to meet her to take her out for tea.

As she headed down the stairs, Emma was nervous. A week ago, she'd met her father for the first time. Although she didn't know him very well yet, Emma couldn't help but like him. She had gauged from just a short time with him that he was a man quietly passionate about the things which mattered to him; a man who had fought his demons and won. Emma was just worried that she wouldn't be good enough for him.

Her fears were somewhat alleviated by the warm smile her father greeted her with. "Happy birthday for tomorrow, Emma," he said sincerely.

"Thank you," Emma said quietly.

"Ready to go?" her father asked and Emma nodded.

She followed him out of the double oak doors and down the marble steps, wondering what they were going to find to talk about. Draco Malfoy might be her father, but he was still a relative stranger.

"So, have you seen much of Scorpius this week?" Emma's father asked.

Emma nodded. "We played some Quidditch on Saturday," she said. "Scorp says he can't give me too many tips, in case I end up playing against him someday."

Her father grinned. "But, what he probably hasn't realised is that by playing with him, you'll get a handle on how he plays, which is about half of what you need to beat him."

They soon reached the iron gates which marked the boundary of Hogwarts. Emma's father tapped the gates with his wand, and they swung open. Emma had never been to Hogsmede before, apart from to catch the train back to London for the school holidays. She'd heard plenty of stories about it, though, from Mia and Lily, and the other older students. As they walked, Emma's father asked her questions about her week at school, distracting Emma so that she almost didn't notice when the village of Hogsmede came into view over the brow of a hill. The village was picturesque, nestled between tow hills, almost like a Christmas Card village, except that it was July, so there was no snow...

Emma glanced over at her father to see him watching her. "It's kind of pretty... if you care for such things," he shrugged.

Emma let him lead her a short way along Hogsmede's main street, before they turned off down a narrower side street. The cafe Emma's father had chosen was called _The Dragon's Hide_. It was slightly dingy, but nevertheless spotless, and also fairly empty at this time on a Wednesday afternoon.

Emma followed her father through the cafe, to a table at the back, where he pulled out Emma's chair for her before seating himself opposite her with his back to the wall. Emma thought the choice of table so far through the restaurant must be deliberate – Emma had a feeling he didn't like sitting with his back to the room.

To save herself from having to make conversation, Emma looked at the menu. Most of the items on there were things she recognised – the kind of things you might find in a muggle cafe – but there were also pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes..

Emma's father made small talk until a plump, youngish wizard came over to take their order.

"Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy," he said genially. "Are you ready to order, sir?"

Emma's father glanced at Emma questioningly, and Emma nodded. Emma's father order himself a pheasant sandwich, and then the waiter turned to Emma.

"And you, young lady?"

Nervously, Emma ordered herself a toasted cheese sandwich. She was glad that some food was the same in the Muggle and Wizarding worlds.

As the waiter walked away, Emma's father turned to her and said, "So, I went to see your mother and step-father at the weekend."

Emma stiffened. She knew her father had been planning on going to see her mum and Steve, but she'd tried to put it out of her mind this past week.

"It's okay," Emma's father said. "I have spoken to Mr Payne, and we have reached an... understanding. He won't hurt you or your brothers or sisters again... or if he does he'll have me to answer to."

"But how will you know...?" Emma asked.

"I have wards – detection spells-" Emma's father explained, at the confused look on Emma's face. "They'll let me know... as will Eddie... which brings me onto..."  
He raised his hand to summon the waiter, who appeared to have been primed, and came over carrying a large something covered with a purple cloth, which he set on the table between Emma and her father.

"I've missed a lot of your birthdays," Emma's father said apologetically. "And I know I can't being to make up for them, but the one I regret missing the most is your 11th, because 11th birthdays are significant in the Wizarding World as the time you get your Hogwarts letter. So... a belated 11th birthday present." He drew off the cloth to reveal a handsome tawny owl.

"Wow..." Emma breathed. "Th...thank you," she stammered.

"Now you can write home without having to use a school owl, and in the holidays, you can write to your friends... and maybe me. Eddie now also has an owl, so he and your sisters can write to you without having to wait for you to write first, and he can also write and tell me if Mr Payne breaks his promise... Now, your twelfth birthday..."

"You didn't have to buy me _another_ present..." Emma protested.

"Yes I did," her father said, with a small smile. "Your owl was just for your eleventh birthday – you don't buy someone a birthday present just once and for all." He summoned the waiter again, who this time brought over a long, thin package wrapped in brown paper. From the shape, Emma thought she could guess what it was, but she didn't get her hopes up – it would be a pretty expensive present.

Carefully, she opened the parcel, to reveal a brand new broom. "You... you... shouldn't have," she stammered. She knew that brooms were expensive, especially decent ones, and this one definitely looked decent.

"Of course I should," Emma's father smiled. "What's the point of having money if I don't get to spend it on my children, especially on their birthdays?"

Emma turned the broom over to reveal the name emblazoned in red: 'Firebolt Red'.

"It should be fast enough for a prospective seeker," Emma's father smiled. "It's one model newer than Scorpius'... although he is angling for a new one when he comes of age next year. And now..." he signalled the waiter again.

"Not another present," Emma said, overwhelmed by the two expensive presents her father had given her. She'd never had any present as expensive as this before, let alone two at once. But, even as the words came out of her mouth, Emma realised they sounded rude and ungrateful, and she hastily tried to backtrack. "I didn't mean it like that, I-"

"It's okay," Emma's father smiled. "I know what you meant. This one's from Astoria – something for you to share with your friends," he told her as the waiter brought over a large square box. Draco opened it to reveal the large square cake, adorned with deep indigo flowers and the words 'Happy Birthday Emma'.

"It's beautiful," Emma said. She'd never had a cake this posh before – in fact she hadn't had a homemade cake since Gran had died. "Please... please could you tell Astoria thank you from me?"  
"Of course," Draco nodded. "But if you get a minute, I'm sure she'd really appreciate a note from you to say thank you." When Emma looked doubtful, Draco continued, "Astoria's really looking forward to meeting you and getting to know you. I know – and so does Astoria – that she's not your mother, but she wants to be your friend."

The waiter came over with their sandwiches, and so the conversation lulled for a while. Emma wondered what a relationship with her step-mother would look like. If it was anything like the one she had with her step-father, then she was fairly sure she didn't want it. But, by the sounds of things, Astoria was nothing like Steve – since when had Steve ever given her a present?

"So, I was wondering whether you'd like to come and stay with me for a few days in the summer?" Emma's father asked, after a long pause in the conversation where the waiter moved Emma's presents to the adjacent table out of the way, and Emma and her father started eating.

"I..." Emma began.

"I know you've missed your brothers and sisters, and want to spend time with them," Emma's father said, "but you're my daughter, and I too want to spend time with you and get to know you properly too. I wouldn't dream of taking you way from your siblings, but I'm hoping you might have a few days to spare for me."

"Of course," Emma said quickly. "I'd like that," she added shyly.

"We can arrange it with your mum when I take you home from King's Cross at the end of term," Emma's father said. "Perhaps we could combine your visit with a trip to Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies – I can't imagine your mother and step-father particularly relish that duty."

Emma shook her head in agreement. "Mum took me last year and she..." 'was useless' were the words she wanted to use. It had been a scary trip – far from how her friends described it – with both Emma and her mum nervous and not quite sure what to do. Instead of her mum stepping up and taking charge like Emma knew a grown-up should, Emma had found herself having to lead the way and ask people for directions. And then Steve had spent the next two weeks moaning about the cost, not only of Emma's school supplies, but also the train tickets to get Emma and her Mum to Diagon Alley.

Emma thought that quite a lot of things in her life were going to get better now her father was in it. It wasn't that Emma didn't love her mum – she did and always would – but just that it was good to finally have two parents like everyone else; Steve had never been anything like a dad to her.

Emma's optimism continued throughout desert, and as she and her father headed up to the castle, she finally started to let herself believe that everything might turn out okay.


	4. Chapter 4

(4)

Emma sat perched on the edge of the sofa, trying to ignore her step-father's pacing. She had been waited for her father upstairs, but had eventually decided that her little sisters' prattle was even more annoying than Steve's pacing. Although it felt like he'd been trying to get rid of her all her life, Emma's step-father was reluctant about her spending the next few days with her father, which Emma guessed as due to a combination of his dislike for Emma's father, and for anything which made Emma happy.

"What time's he meant to be here?" Steve demanded, apparently looking anywhere but at Emma.

"Ten," Emma replied, aware that it was already twenty past.

"Maybe he's forgotten you," Steve suggested. "After all, it's not like he can have got stuck in traffic, is it? If I were you I'd go back upstairs and unpack."

Emma tried to ignore him, knowing he was just trying to wind her up. But part of her couldn't help but wonder whether her dad had forgotten her. Sure, he'd written to her last week to tell her he was looking foward to having her to stay, but last week was a long time ago. And what if this was his way of saying that actually he didn't want anything to do with her?

"He'll come," Emma said, trying to sound confident. These days, Steve took his temper out on Emma and her siblings verbally, and confidence and not allowing him to get to them were their best defences.

There was a knock at the door, and Emma lept up.

"Normal people would ring the doorbell," Steve scowled, but Emma ignored him. She hurried to open the front door, and, sure enough, there was her father.

"Hi Emma – ready to go?" he asked.

"Yep," Emma nodded.

"Is that your bag?" her father asked, gesturing to the hold-all by the foot of the stairs.

"Yeah," Emma said. Her father waved his wand at the bag and then picked it up as if it weighed no more than a feather, which Emma guessed it probably didn't anymore. Emma grabbed her broom, which was standing in the corner, and her owl, Olivia's, cage.

"Emma!" Evie shrieked, and her three siblings came thundering down the stairs.

"You can't leave without saying goodbye!" Ellie admonished.

"I wasn't gonna," Emma protested, as Evie lept into her arms for a hug. "I won't be gone long – back before you know it."

"Good morning, Eddie," Emma's father said, reaching out to shake his hand. "How's that owl of yours?"

"She's good, thanks, sir," Eddie nodded.

Evie twisted in Emma's arms to get a good look at her father. "Are you Emma's dad?" she demanded.

"I am," Emma's father affirmed.

"Are you taking her away?" Evie asked.

"Only for a holiday," Emma's father explained. "I'll bring her back."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Emma dished out hugs to Eddie and Ellie, persuaded Evie her feet wouldn't burn up due to the lava-carpet if she put her down, and then followed her father out of the door.

"Owls don't apparate well," Emma's father cautioned," so you'd better let her out – she'll catch up with us."

"Will she know where to go without a letter?" Emma asked uncertainly. She opened the cage, and Olivia hopped out onto her shoulder.

"She'll know – owls are smart," Emma's father said. "Just let her know where you're going, and she'll find you."

"I'm going to my dad's, okay?" Emma told Olivia, although she wasn't convinced. Olivia nipped her finger – still affectionally, but harder than normal – which Emma took to mean 'start trusting me', before flying off.

"Hold on tight," Emma's father said, offering her his arm. Emma held on tight as her father stepped forward and pulled her into nothingness.

The next thing Emma knew, she was standing with her father before a set of iron gates. Beyond the gates she could see a large manor house – in fact, to Emma, it seemed huge. She could hear the squawking of gulls, and though she could smell sea air.

"Are we near the sea?" she asked.

"North Devon," her father nodded. "There's a path – about half a mile long – which leads out of our land and down to the sea." He stopped forward, straight through the closed gates.

"The gates..." Emma said lamely, hesitating to follow.

"Are open," her father said. "Take a closer look."

Emma shuffled forward another half step, and, at once, without opening, the gates were open. But, if Emma concentrated hard enough, she could also seem them as closed.

"What...?"

"Muggle-replling charms," her father explained. "Once you've seen that they're open, it's hard to see them closed, but most people wouldn't imagine they'd be open, so... Come on."

Emma stepped forward, through the gates, and began to follow her father up the winding drive to the house.

"I'm sorry I was late to pick you up," Emma's father said as they walked. "I was caught up with something at the Ministry, and I'm afraid I've got to head back there for a few hours. Scorpius is at a friend's until tomorrow, but Astoria's home, and I'm sure she won't mind giving you the tour without me."

Emma wasn't entirely too happy about being left with her step-mother for several hours after only just meeting her – meeting Astoria was something she'd been worried about for a while. She knew it was silly, but she desperately wanted Astoria to like her, but was afraid she wouldn't.

Instead of entering the house by the front door, Emma's father lead the way around to the side of the house and another door, which turned out to lead to the kitchen.

Astoria was the first thing Emma saw when she followed her father into the house. She was sat at the kitchen table, surrounded by piles of papers, and looked up when the door opened.

"Sorry we're late," Emma's father said. "Emma, this is Astoria."

Emma barely had a chance to say hello before Astoria had stood up, crossed the kitchen and swallowed her up in a big hug. Emma's first instinct was to pull away, but then she relaxed and let her step-mother hung her.

"Let me guess – you've got to get back to the Ministry," Astoria said, turning to Draco as she finished hugging Emma.

"I'll be as quick as I can," Emma's father promised. "Will you two be alright here until I get back?"

"Of course we will, won't we, Emma?" Astoria said, and Emma nodded.

Emma's father kissed Astoria on the cheek, looked as though he had been going to kiss Emma but thought better of it, and then turned on the spot and disapperated.

"Would you like a drink, Emma?" Astoria asked. "I was just about to make tea, but there's cold drinks too."

"P...please could I have a cup of tea?" Emma asked.

Astoria either hadn't noticed Emma's nervousness, or else she was deliberately ignoring it, as she vanished her papers from the table with a wave of her wand, and then cheerily told Emma to take a seat whilst she made the tea.

Emma sat down and watched Astoria expertly squirt a jet of water from the end of her wand into the kettle before putting it on to boil. Astoria chattered as she made the tea – the kind of chatter which didn't really require Emma to respond.

"You don't know how much I've been looking forward to having another woman in the house," Astoria said, as she set a cup of tea in front of Emma and sat down opposite her.

At twelve, Emma didn't think she quite qualified as a woman, but she wasn't about to argue with Astoria.

"Draco and Scorpius gang up on me when they're both here," Astoria continued. "So it'll be good to even out the score a little. Althought I hear you're Quidditch mad too, so..."

"Not exactly mad..." Emma said quietly. "I mean, I like it, but..."

"But it doesn't consume your life, like it does your brother's," Astoria said.

Emma started. She'd never heard anyone refer to Scorp as her brother. Eddie was her brother, and Scorp was... her brother too. It was weird to think of him as such, but she guessed he was as much her brother as Eddie was.

"Are you alright?" Astoria asked, gently touching Emma's arm.

"I'm fine," Emma nodded.

"So, what do you like to do, then?" Astoria asked.

"I like... to make stuff... craft and stuff..." Emma told her. "Cards and boxes, and picture frames. And I used to bake... with my Gran."

"Yeah?" Astoria encouraged, and Emma continued,

"When Ellie – my little sister, she's seven – was born, she was born early, and she was pretty sick, and so me and Eddie used to go to Gran's to give Mum and Steve some time just with Ellie, and me and Gran used to bake while Eddie was napping. But then Gran died, when I was nine."

"You must miss her," Astoria said gently.

Emma nodded. "She was... my favourite grown-up," she said hesitantly. "She always listened to me, even when nobody else did."

"Have you baked since she died?" Astoria asked.

Emma shook her head. "Steve never lets me at home – he says he doesn't want me to make a mess in the kitchen."

"Do you want to bake?" Astoria asked. "We could make cakes, or biscuits, or scones – whatever you want - for tea."

"Really?" Emma asked.

Astoria nodded. "What do you fancy?"

"Scones," Emma said decisively.

"Okay," Astoria said. "How about I show you around first – get your bags put away upstairs?"

Emma nodded, quickly draining the last of her tea. She followed Astoria around the ground floor, as Astoria showed her the formal dining room, the sitting room, the snug ("Which is about the only room – apart from the kitchen – we actually use down here on a day-to-day basis," Astoria said). Upstairs, Astoria pointed out the doors to the master suite, several guest suites, and hers and Draco's studies.

"Traditionally, the children were hidden away in the attic," Astoria grinned, as she and Emma continued up to the top floor. "Scorpius quite likes it up here – says it's an adult free zone. This is his room-" she opened the door, but cautioned, "don't look too closely – it's a tip, and no amount of fragrance charms can mask the teenage boy smell. And then these-" she gestured to two doors opposite one another "-are spare rooms, and one of them can be yours. Take a look."

The blue room was at the front of the house, with a view down the long drive. It was furnished in pale wood furniture, and Emma thought it was at least three times as big as the room she shared with her sisters at home. The orange room, at the back of the house, was a similar size. The furniture was darker, but the orange made the room seem warmer, and had a view out over the fields and-

"Is that the sea?" Emma asked.

Astoria nodded.

"I think I like this one best," Emma said.

"Me too," Astoria smiled. "This was my room when I was growing up."

"You lived here as a child?" Emma asked.

Astoria nodded. "The Greengrass family estate, left to the younger daughter, since there were no sons, and my sister went to live with her husband when they married."

Emma thought she sounded bitter, but before she could say anything, Astoria turned and summoned Emma's bags.

"Right," she said decisively. "Let's go and make some scones."

When Draco got home, it was to find his wife and daughter in the kitchen, making scones.

"We're making scones," Astoria told him, wholly unnecessarily – they were just cutting out the last few.

"Well, I shall excuse myself," he began, "before-" Astoria flicked some flour at him. "-Yes, before that happens."

Emma giggled. Draco loved to hear his daughter laugh – he was fairly sure this was the first time he'd heard it – but equally he didn't want his robes any more covered in flour than they already were, so he left the room.

After dinner, Draco proposed a walk down to the beach. Emma seized on the idea, so he turned to his wife.

"My dear, will you accompany us?"

Astoria shook her head. "I have some work to finish – I'll leave you two to it."

"It looks like you and Astoria got on pretty well this morning," Draco commented, as he and Emma began their walk through the grounds of the Greengrass Estate.

Emma nodded. "I like her," she said shyly.

"I think she likes you too," Draco smiled. "I see you two found something to do together – do you bake much at home?"

Emma shook her head. "Steve won't let me... I used to, with my Gran... before she died."

There was a long pause before Draco spoke again. "Astoria and her mother were really close. She passed away last autumn. So I suppose she understands how you feel... about your gran."

There was an even longer pause, whilst Draco and Emma headed out of the gate which marked the boundary of the Greengrass land, and onto the public footpath.

"I didn't know... about Astoria's mother..." Emma said eventually.

"She's pretty private about that sort of thing," Draco told her. "But I know she appreciates having you around."

The two of them walked, mostly in silence, towards the beach. Occasionally, they exchanged a few words, but one thing Draco particularly like about his daughter was that she was happy to pass the time in silence – unlike Astoria, who seemed to think quiet was something to be despised and avoided at all costs, and Scorpius, who, by all appearances, had inherited that trait from his mother.

When they reached the beach, Draco watched his daughter come alive. The wind whipped through her hair as she stood facing into the wind, her eyes closed.

"I miss the beach when I'm at Hogwarts," Emma said eventually. "When Eddie was a baby, if Steve was in a mood, Mum just used to grab me and Eddie, and take us to the beach until he'd calmed down. It always made me feel so... free... like I didn't have to worry if what I was doing would make Steve mad. This summer's the first time we haven't been in holiday clubs or with childminders whilst Mum and Steve work, and I've been allowed to look after Eddie, Ellie and Evie. We've practically lived at the beach."

As they walked, Draco found his daughter opening up to him more and more. She told him about her family and her friends, and, even though he'd been horrified and repentant at the time, Draco found himself immensely glad of the one night stand which had resulted in his daughter.

Scorpius came home the following day, and Astoria spent the afternoon watching her husband, so and step-daughter flying around the grounds, in relentless pursuit of a snitch which Draco had procured from... somewhere. Astoria had long since given up trying to keep track of her husband's connections at the Ministry – he'd tried to explain it to her several times, but Astoria had never been very good at remembering names. She knew that Draco had worked long and hard to rebuild trust and connections which had been lost in the War, and for that she was proud of him, and would defend him, even when everyone around her was muttering about 'privilege' and 'throwing money around'.

Scorpius was loath to beat Emma every time, occasionally hanging back to let his sister get ahead of him. Draco was pulling no such punches. But then, Astoria reflected, he did have his work cut out keeping up with the teenagers – he was now the wrong side of forty, and it was starting to show.

Emma seized the snitch triumphantly, and Astoria cheered her from down below.

The next time Astoria looked up, they had abandoned the snitch, and Draco and Scorpius were putting Emma through a series of dives and rolls. Astoria sighed. Emma being Quidditch mad made her fit right in in this family, but it did make Astoria the odd one out again.

Emma's father took her home early Tuesday morning, on his way to the Ministry. Because it was early, Emma hadn't expected anyone else to be up, but when she went downstairs, Astoria was already in the kitchen, and Scorpius came in when they were halfway through breakfast.

When Emma's father said it was time to go, Emma got up, and so did Scorpius.

"Look after yourself, Em," he said, hugging her. "See ya at school."

Astoria stood up too, and swallowed Emma up in a hug almost before Scorpius had let go of her.

"Take care, sweetheart," Astoria said. "Write to me if you get the time."

"I will," Emma promised. She really felt she'd made a friend in Astoria these past few days.

Emma took her father's arm, and was instantly transported from the kitchen at the Greengrass Estate to the quiet street in Cornwall where she'd lived for as long as she could remember.

Emma had enjoyed her week at ther dad's, but it presented her with a problem – for the past year she'd been caught between the two worlds of home and Hogwarts. This past week and just made it three.


	5. Chapter 5

**(5)**

"Professor... May I talk to you?"

Emma approached her head of house tentatively, wondering how he was going to take her request, or if it was even possible. Perhaps your name was magically set – it wasn't just a case of erasing one name and writing in another. But this was something she'd been planning on doing all summer; she couldn't chicken out. A Gryffindor wouldn't chicken out, and she'd finally come to terms with the fact that she _did_ belong in Gryffindor; that the Hat hadn't made a mistake in putting her there.

"Sure, Emma. What's on your mind?"

"I was wondering if it's possible to change my name – my last name – on registers and stuff," Emma said. "I want to be – well, I am, really – Emma Malfoy, not Emma Payne."

"Have you thought this through?" Professor Longbottom asked her. "Have you thought through the implications of what it means to be a Malfoy – of the stigma attached to that name?"

Emma nodded. She'd thought of little else all summer. "I know my father made some bad decisions in the War, just like the rest of his family," she said seriously. "And I know that there are a lot of people who still hold that against him, even though it's been twenty-five years. And I know that there will be people who look down on me for having his name, or who don't understand my decision to take it. But I'd much rather have his name than my step-father's; I'd rather have the name of a man who knows he made some bad decisions in the past but has worked to fix them and make better choices now, than the name of one who still makes bad choices every day, and won't even admit to it. I'd much rather be a Malfoy than a Payne."

* * *

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to get these out guys - turns out I've had them typed up for ages, and it's taken literally two minutes to post them, but RL kept getting in the way of doing it sooner.

I'll be completely honest with you, I don't know if Dudley's Daughter Year Four will ever be posted. I'm part way though Chapter Seventeen (and I'm not sure I've even made it to Halloween yet), but after a big burst of writing over the summer, I haven't written anything since September. I just don't have time to write at the moment. It was always my aim to write all seven (I have ideas for all of them), but I don't see that happening anytime soon.

As always, I love reading reviews. ~ Nat


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